Ring of Fire. || In post-civilisation San Francisco, the relocation of handbags by fashion enthusiasts. (h/t, Darleen) || For the woman who has everything. (h/t, Things) || Also, layers of London. || Another accident in the lab. || Cats in microgravity. || Attention, amorous ladies. || “How dare you not desire me?” said the green-haired bedlamite. || “I kind of view myself as a doll.” || At last, paper drill bits. || Parental pushback. || Meanwhile, in the Independent. || Meanwhile, in the Guardian. || Hush now, our betters are speaking. || Something error happen. || Yes, there will be a test. || Dull truth. || “Does anything radioactive actually glow bright green?” || And finally, persuasively, some aggressive rattling. 

Bean glove. You heard me. || It’s a car, it’s a helicopter. (h/t, Things) || How to open a drawer. || How to peel potatoes. || The portable kitchen you’ve always wanted. || Pride. || “Alternatives to policing.” || More progressive motherhood. || The thrill of midwifery. || Monster detected. || Accelerated herding. || Maybe help will come. || Inside the Statue of Liberty. || Narrow city. || Vice of note. || Causality questioned. || Coffee Bar, 1959: “A square in the wrong hole is just not dug, even by the jukebox.” || Yes, there will be a test. || Not entirely unrelated. || Always ensure the tank is big enough. || And the robots will dance to K-pop. || The thrill of pencils. || Puzzling. || And finally, then they’ll pay. Then they’ll all pay.

All about the ass. || Rich in zinc. || Seemingly routine. || Glasses are inherently racist. || Correction of note. || Complications. || Let’s talk about the tuck. || A song about the police and their privileged horses. || Parenting in action. || Nommy-nommy-oh. || In middle-class leftist bedlamite news, “A period of deep shame for being white.” Cultivated neuroticism is very in right now. || Niche browser extension. || Bolton is vibrant. || Bat nursery. || Underside. || Unhappy educator. (h/t, Jeff) || Today’s word is degenerate. (h/t, Darleen) || Motoring 2.0 || Progressive motherhood. || How to lose money selling cannabis. || And finally, how to smuggle cocaine. Pro tip: don’t do cocaine before attempting this.

The concept of sideways. || The scene of the crime. || At last, high-speed hover cars. (h/t, STG) || “Social justice publishing.” || Related. || Perverse and insatiable, there is no cure. || Rolling with it. || Beer vortex. || If the Moon were a disco ball. A giant, somewhat terrifying disco ball. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || Ladies at large. || Felt lemonade. || “A deadly presence.” (Or, when you’re being bullied and you don’t even realise it.) || When hypocrisy is a default. || Seeing-eye shoes. || I laughed and I’m not sorry. || Simpler times. || “Black people can’t be racist,” says big black racist. || Balloon versus orange peel. || A boy and his dog. || Suboptimal translation. || And finally, relaxingly, a foot massage of note.

Notice of note. (h/t, Holborn) || I am the night. || Gracious in victory. || The inventor of karaoke. || Vibrant diversity in street and park. || Place your bets – will advocaat carbonate? (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || Quick and tasty snacks, plus patting. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || Interloper. || Portals. || One pack or two? || Today’s word is parasites. || She calls it prayer rape. Because of course she does. || Cleavage detected. || A labour of love. || When you really channel that bad mood. || Jam session of note. || Jigsaw puzzle. || Just like normal people. || “You have to, you do.” || Woke art, woke artist. || Woke blathering level 9: “Fat-phobia is a direct result of anti-blackness.” || And finally, you want to and you know it.